Holding the Moment

 
My desert heart pumped  
hotter than a whore's corsets  
on Saturday night  
gliding home  
like a butter knife deprived  
 
Act your age  
she squealed  
 
We only live once  
I sighed  
knowing once  
would be more than enough  
before the three day  
hangover arrived  
 
But the trick  
of holding the moment  
learned once  
is never lost  
 
Then flush of red  
turning white  
the orchestra  
cream cat silent now  
while the moon  
teases shadow  
into memory  
chasing ever so gently  
over the hill